


The Isle of Man

by honeywreath



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 10:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18179225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeywreath/pseuds/honeywreath
Summary: He's just very thankful tonight.





	The Isle of Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thoughtfullightcollection](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtfullightcollection/gifts).



> Re-uploaded for a dear friend of mine :") If any of you have requests for any of my old fics to be re-uploaded just hit me up so i can get to that one first :)

The cold air is biting.

It’s chill renders his hands icy and cheeks red but his insides feel warm and Phil knows the effect goes beyond the blessing of layered jackets and thick woolly socks.

Surrounded here, by the people he loves and who love him back and being immersed in their soothing chatter is what he had been craving since the start of December, since the first pop in his advent calendar’s tiny door, in the sugary flavor of the rich chocolate melting helplessly on his tongue.

He’s been thinking about this since the first few notes of ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ wafted through their flat, in harmony with the alluring aroma of fresh pancakes or the cereal scented spray can labelled ‘happiness’. He could almost  _ hear  _ Dan shaking his head with a fond grin.

He’s here, up in green heights of the Isle of Man with it’s seams holding them up from the waves that come forth and collide with the rocky edges all those feet below and Phil swears that the crashing sound is better music than his constantly on-replay Mariah Carey or the soft muted noise of the first Christmas snow settling on the ground below and the joy that comes tagging along with it.

He adores it all.

The fresh air, the pain in his lungs from their hiking tradition and  _ his family _ .

His Dad who pats him on the back with a gentle tug at the corner of his lips, a twinkle in his eyes, closer and closer to Phil the more he ages and grows in his own way, his mum, sweet sweet Kathryn who makes him proud to be a ‘mama’s boy’ with hugs carrying the scent of vanilla and smile the color of fondness, his  brother Martyn with his teasing smirk, headlocks and reminders of childhood and the love that travels beyond it, His ‘ _ sister from another mother’ _ , dear, dear Cornelia with her fiery red hair, humbling intelligence and heart of gold and _Dan_.

His Dan .

Dan with those soft brown curls that he loves to wrap his fingers round, covered now by Phil’s favorite, nostalgia Inducing, fluffy woolly hat.

Dan with his banter and domestic jabs, his affection coated in a thin, transparent sheen of sarcasm till it oozes out like honey and overflows, expands till it drowns Phil in the best way.

Dan, precious worrying Dan, with barely concealed concern and fretting hands when Phil inevitably loses his footing and slips.

Dan with the pink pouty lips and rosy red cheeks that Phil leans in to peck because he can. 

He can and he loves the Isle of Man.

Phil smiles when large warm hands cup his own cheeks in return. The kiss chased after so eagerly with lips and hands and feet and he's surrounded by warmth.

* * *

 

_ ‘Dan love, take them out of your pockets! You’ll lose your balance’!  _

His mum tuts through the wind rushing in their ears, up high on the hike and Dan ducks his head as he grins sheepishly.

This family, Phil's family, and the affection Dan’s surrounded by colors his cheeks beautifully. They've welcomed him as their own and It makes something settle so very gently in Phil's soul, softly like snow but oh so warm in it's weight. 

Dan hears the motherly fretting even as he climbs up paces beyond and obeys her instantly because he’s what Phil’s mum calls  _ ‘a dear’ _ and Phil giggles when she instinctively offers him her own  lace lined gloves but promptly pulls them back with a  _ ‘Oh my a bit too small eh,?’ _

Phil loves the Isle of Man.

* * *

 

He's brought back to now from moments before, only a little more fonder than he could possibly be and his cheeks get insulated against the rushing winds when his kiss is chased. 

All his eyes can focus on clearly is Dan, bright in the blur of white beyond him, melting chocolate curls and crinkly smiles to return his own. 

Phil laughs then, because Dan looks so cozy and cute with that silly heart eyed look that leaves Phil’s mind in jumbles and a lopsided grin that flips his heart in a perfect toss and Phil feels full, overwhelmed with emotion that makes him laughs fondly because it bubbles up his chest and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He doesn’t want to stop it.

He wants to laugh loudly and as fondly as he wants because he can.

Dan leans forward and pecks his freezing lips because _ he can  _ and Phil loves The Isle of Man.

* * *

 

He ends up staring at Dan who holds a camera his way and insists that he capture the moment or rather Phil in the moment, not with words but with just a familiar begging raise of his brows and doe eyes that Phil is and has always been a sucker for and Dan asks with them and a tug at his sleeve and Phil’s not sure when the camera clicks because all he could look at was the dimple curling in deeper with Dan’s smile.

Derek has been visible all day to poke and prod at and to kiss and simply adore and has Phil mentioned  _ how much he loves the Isle of Man? _

He feels the four letter word resound so easily, like his heart is a tv screen and it's bouncing around the edges, making it tumble when it hits a corner. 

Weird analogy but then again those are another aspect of him Dan likes and it makes him just a tiny bit happier to know.

 

He goes to the kitchen with Martyn that evening to make everyone’s favorite drinks because Dan is setting out a game of truth bombs and chatting excitedly about a few questions they wrote and the story of how they came up with them with his mum and his dad. 

He hears his Dad’s deep rumbling chuckle and his mum’s amused yet concerned  _ ‘oh dear’ _ and Phil is basking in it all so much that he curls his toes, swaying forward and back giddily while he waits for the milk to warm up. 

Martyn shoots him a knowing look, his own body lax and smile permanent in a way that Phil knows means happiness and he tilts his lip up in a reflexive smirk because Martyn is such a hypocrite and Phil is such a little brother.

They end up crowning Cornelia the queen of truth bombs and Phil pouts as if his birth right has been stolen but gets no sympathy. He bats Cornelia’s leg away when she lifts it with a  _ ‘kiss my feet’  _ notion and hollers how he's been cheated.

Martyn demands a game of darts to compensate for his own utter defeat. He has a height advantage over Corn while Dan and Phil have zero spatial awareness. He makes sure to let them know when they agree.

They have a good laugh at him when Cornelia wipes the floor with that too.

 

Dan’s been scrolling through his phone for a bit, because he needs to do multiple things at a time and he’s comfortable enough to put his manners at a side for a while now, even though Phil knows he’ll shut it down in a heart beat if he notices that Phil’s parents mind but they don’t and he’s warm with how cozy Dan looks sitting cross legged on the couch among them all.

He whispers in Phil’s ear about how Phil’s picture looks as if he’s got boobs but apparently it’s loud enough for Kath’s ears and Dan blushes when he realizes, the smile never leaving his face still, because these are the Lesters and sometimes he’s reminded of how Nigel has already opened a video titled ‘Dan and Phil’s sex tape.’ And nothing can top that cringe.

Phil has mischief at the corner of his tongue, a simple  _ ‘You can stop staring at my picture, I’m right here Dan.’ _ because the best teasing is derived from truth and he wants to see Dan huff and hide his blush with a classic Dan retort but he stops because he stares at his own picture and  _ it shows so much _ .

It  _ all _ shows.

On his face, in his eyes and he wants the world to  _ know _ even if it’s in a subtle and small way so he asks Dan to forward it to him and posts it with a relevant quirky caption, inspired by Dan who fake frowns about not getting any credit.

 

Martyn laughs with a ‘Dan talking about Phil’s man boobs, let’s put that on the merch!’ and Dan stutters over his own blush while Kath sends a _ ‘your mum’s here, behave’ _ glare to her son with a smile on her lips that doesn’t hinder the effectiveness of the warning as Martyn grins but doesn’t further the conversation. They respect their mum or rather everyone respects Kath in a way story book mums are respected that no one wants to be the cause of bringing her wonderful spirit down by a single notch or as Phil says how _ ‘He won’t do something that makes his mum sad.’ _

 

It makes Dan’s heart sometimes ache because he loves where he came from despite the imperfections but what if they were more like the Lesters and his mum’s hugs felt just a little tighter like Kath’s, not that he doesn't find comfort in them anyway and he wishes he didn’t shift his feet awkwardly under the table at least once while talking about a YouTube project he was proud of but it was what it was and Dan had two families not one.

He feels Phil squeeze his hand because he knew him too well, the sadness slipping back into it’s quiet corner and Dan corrected his thoughts to himself.

He has three families not two.

One in Wokingham, the nostalgic south with Colin bouncing around the door just with the sound of his footsteps when he arrives, with his Gran who makes his whole heart swell with love, his little brother who he loves to annoy as big brothers do, his mum who's wits he finds sharper than his own. 

One here with Kath and Corn and Martyn and Nigel, in the north that's warmer in spirit than it's cold in it’s abode and then, one with Phil.

The most treasured one right beside him for many years that have passed and for all the years to come.

The one he, no, they, have made for their own.

* * *

 

It’s late when they leave for bed, sated as if full of delicious food and pleasantly drunk, both of which are true except they’re drunk on happiness and the Lester family Christmas spirit or simply  _ the Lester family spirit. _

It sounds cheesy but Dan doesn’t mind with this reverberating giddiness in his bones and Phil can’t help being a little love drunk with a Dan shaped pillow to cuddle into, surrounded in comfort that makes him sigh, filled up with welcome and gratefulness in his loose limbs.

He's just very thankful tonight.

Thankful for all the nights and days and what goes beyond, before and in between that have been spent leading to this.

He'll spend all those to come showing just how much in kisses and words and things that cannot be seen or heard but can be felt just the same.

Love settles into layers, grows gently like falling snow.

It's good to finally know.

* * *

 

Sleep comes quietly on tip toes with a tickle of Dan’s curls on Phil’s neck like a lullaby.

His warm puffs of breath on Phil’s skin remain a forever blanket of belonging, like a reminder of how some people live in homes yet how his home lives in his arms where he belongs and Phil hears the waves crash far away, muted like the first snow of Christmas.

He drifts off thinking how much he loves the Isle of Man, simply because it brings together everyone he loves.

He sleeps in peace.

Dan turns sleepily into his chest.

The snow falls.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> based on this post: ( https://www.instagram.com/p/Bc-YpLwB_Kf/?hl=en&taken-by=amazingphil )


End file.
